The Colors of Love - Minsung

twenty three

It was a warm Saturday afternoon, and Jisung was out running errands. His last stop was the pet store—his dog had destroyed another toy, and if he didn't replace it soon, his shoes would probably be next.

He held up two options, both vaguely bone-shaped, and turned to the closest person next to him. "Hey, which one do you think he'd like better? The red one or the blue one?"

The person blinked at him.

Jisung blinked back.

"...Minho??"

Minho, who had been crouched down inspecting a row of canned cat food, looked just as surprised to see him. "Jisung?"

"What are you doing here?"

"What do you mean, what am I doing here?" Minho scoffed. "It's a pet store." He held up a can of tuna-flavored cat food like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "I have cats."

Jisung processed that for a second before nodding. "Right. That makes sense."

A short pause. Then Minho's gaze flicked to the chew toys still clutched in Jisung's hands. "Wait, you have a dog?"

"I—" Jisung hesitated. "Yeah?"

Minho squinted at him, as if trying to process this information. "...Huh. Didn't think you were a dog person."

"Well, I didn't think you were a cat person," Jisung shot back.

Minho made a face. "How could I not be? Have you seen me?"

"...Okay, fair point."

They both stood there for a moment. Awkwardly. In silence.

 Then, to Jisung's surprise, Minho nodded at the chew toys in his hands.

"Get the blue one," he said.

Jisung blinked. "Huh?"

"The blue one. It looks more durable."

Jisung glanced down at them, then back at Minho. "...You really think so?"

Minho shrugged. "Yeah. Plus, red is an aggressive color. You want your dog to have anger issues?"

Jisung let out a short laugh. "That's ridiculous." But still, he put the red one back and kept the blue.

Minho smirked. "You're welcome."

Jisung rolled his eyes but smiled despite himself. "Yeah, yeah."

By the time they paid for their things and stepped out of the store, the sun had dipped lower in the sky, casting long shadows on the pavement.

Minho glanced at Jisung. "You in a rush to go home?"

Jisung shook his head. "Not really. Why?"

Minho shrugged. "There's a café down the street. We could grab something to drink."

Jisung hesitated for a second, then nodded. "Yeah. Sure."

As they walked side by side, laughing at some stupid comment Minho made, they didn't notice someone watching them from across the street—eyes narrowing, lips pressing into a thin line.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Jisung hadn't planned on spending time with Minho today, but somehow, sitting across from him in the café, drinks in hand... felt nice.

Minho was easier to talk to when there wasn't a whole school setting around them.

He still had that same dry, teasing way of speaking, but here, it felt less like an act and more like just... him.

Jisung stirred his drink absentmindedly. "So... how many cats do you have?"

"Three," Minho said. "Soon to be four, maybe. I saw this kitten outside my apartment the other day, and I think he's trying to move in."

Jisung snorted. "You're getting scammed."

"I know," Minho muttered. "And yet, I'm letting it happen."

Jisung laughed, and Minho's lips curled up slightly—just enough that Jisung caught it before Minho looked away.

For some reason, that made his stomach flip.

Jisung tapped his fingers against his cup, pretending to think, even though his thoughts were already a tangled mess.

"So," he said, forcing his voice to stay light, "what made you enter the art contest, anyway?"

Minho raised an eyebrow. "You're really still on this mystery artist thing, huh?"

Jisung looked him straight in the eye. "It's you, isn't it?"

Minho blinked, caught off guard. "What?"

"The mystery artist," Jisung said, tilting his head slightly. "It's you."

Minho looked at him for a long moment, his fingers drumming lightly against the table. Then, instead of answering, he let out a quiet chuckle and took a sip of his drink.

Jisung narrowed his eyes. "That's not a no."

Minho sighed, shaking his head. "It's also not a yes."

Jisung was about to push further when Minho's phone suddenly buzzed against the table. The screen lit up, and as soon as Minho saw the caller ID, his expression shifted—shoulders tensing, amusement fading.

Jisung barely had time to process the change before Minho was already standing, grabbing his phone. "I have to take this."

Jisung blinked. "Wait—"

"I'll text you later," Minho muttered, barely sparing him a glance before striding out of the café.

Jisung sat frozen, watching him disappear through the door.

Minho always had this effortless way of carrying himself—unbothered, unreadable.

But something about the way he left, the way his expression flickered just before he turned away... didn't sit right with Jisung.

✎ To be continued...